Bad Idea
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: Mulder comes home to find that even professional assassins make really bad decisions.


Bad Idea

By ROSSELLA1

Note:I do not own the X-Files, its characters or any mythical after Anasazi but, besides that, no particular time. Can be viewed as crack or just humor. I don't even know where this came from, but here it is.

When Special Agent Fox Mulder arrived home after a bizarre case involving, of all things, highly intelligent rats living in a rose bush, he did not expect to find Alex Krycek lying on his floor. He was so still that Mulder's first thought was that he was dead and he swiftly drew his gun and did a sweep of his apartment, looking for whoever had transported the ex-FBI agent there. Upon finding no one, Mulder slowly approached the body lying on the floor and, pointing the gun at it, knelt down to feel for a pulse. He was surprised to feel one and stood up immediately.

"On your feet, Krycek!" Mulder demanded, stepping back just to be safe.

The man groaned, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes. Blinking his eyes open, Krycek smiled up at the gun Mulder was pointing in his face. "Heeeey! Long see no time!"

Mulder narrowed his eyes. "I said get up!"

"Mmmkay…" Krycek rolled over onto his stomach and got to his knees and then his feet, he turned, giving Mulder a triumphant grin, before falling over backwards.

Frowning, Mulder reached forward and hauled him back up. "What's the matter? Are you hurt?" Krycek burst out laughing. Irritated, Mulder pressed the gun to the other man's temple. "Answer me!"

"Hey, man!' Krycek chuckled, actually raising a hand to swat at the gun.

Mulder was tempted to shoot him and call it self-defense, but something told him that something wasn't right here. "Did you take a blow to the head?"

"Mmm...nope!"

"Then what's up?"

"I just...uh...I thought...was out drinkin..and...mmm…" Krycek rolled his head, cracking his neck. "Was thinkin'...we...we never hang out anymore."

"Yeah. There's a reason for that. How much vodka did you have?"

"No vadko!" Krycek shook his head vehemently. "Jus' gin."

"How many gins?"

Krycek look at him confused. "I have ten fingers."

"But how much did you have to drink?"

"Ten fingers!" Krycek insisted.

"That's not...oh!" Comprehension dawned on Mulder. "Shit! Okay, come on." He grabbed the assassin's shoulder and pushed him towards the couch. "Sit down. I'm calling Skinner."

A hand reached out and grabbed Mulder's arm as it reached for his phone. Mulder cocked his gun, but Krycek just pouted at him. "I thought it'd just be you an' me! Like ol' times!" He swallowed. "We can watch a game?"

"You killed my father and you think you can come here and we could just watch a game?"

Krycek shook his head. "Didn' kill your father."

"Oh, so you just happened to be poisoning my water at the same time someone else went after my father, in an attempt to frame me?"

"Nope. Only killed your fake father. So, we cool?"

"What?" Mulder spat.

To Mulder's horror, Krycek opened his mouth and began to sing. "On top of Old Smooookey, your lovely Mommyyyy!" He paused. "I can't think of any more lyrics...mmm...not sure she was on top, either. Or that she's pretty. But…mmm...uh...they fucked and then you happened."

"Who?"

"Your mom and dad. Your real dad. Old Smokey. Cancer Man. Cig-"

"That's a lie!" Mulder snapped. "You're too drunk to know what you're talking about!"

"In veritos winos!" Krycek proclaimed, nodding sagely.

Mulder bit his lip. "That's. Not…." He took a deep breath. His mind went back to the pictures of Cancer Man and his mother. The pictures of Cancer Man and his father. And the concern Cancer Man had shown when Mulder's mother was hospitalized. Could he...No. Mulder wouldn't think about that. Not when there was a drunken double agent on his couch. "I'm calling Skinner."

Taking a step back and being careful to keep the gun trained on Krycek, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his boss's number. It rang several times before, finally, it was picked up. "Skinner."

"Hello, sir."

"Mulder? It's...do you have any idea what-"

"Somewhere between two and three in the morning. But I think you'll want to get over here. You'll never guess who I have on my couch."

"HI SKINNER!" Krycek shouted.

There was a moment of silence and then. "Was that-"

"Alex Krycek? Yeah. Apparently he's drunk and wants to watch a game."

"BUT WE'RE FINE WITHOUT YOU!"

Another moments of silence. "I'll be right over. Be careful, Mulder."

"Will do, sir."

"So," Krycek smiled, "is he staying at home?"

"No. He'll be over right away."

Krycek frowned. "But he'll ruin all the fun!"

"Yeah, well, it's been a long time since he saw you and he wants to say hello."

Krycek rolled his eyes. "Alllll riiight…." His eyes brightened. "So. Now that you know I didn't kill your father, can we watcha game?"


End file.
